Let me tell you about my best friend
and how nothing can be tip toed around coyly
because in this woven trampoline of past mistakes and future midnight dates
there is a sense of safety in knowing that anything can be said
like, stop doing that, it's annoying
it's not that I don't love you
or don't wear that, trust me
it's not that you're unattractive
the truth never hurts, but more is reassuring knowing its not misconstrued by alternative motives
and my best friend knows it takes a 12-pack and ice cream for the deeper scars
but it probably takes a 12-pack and ice cream for a casual night in
because its not about what resources we have
every night is hugged in laughter and will be a story that starts with "remember when?"
and have you had anyone sit by your side without a budge when you've been drinking for 6 hours
and you think you're hilarious when you're not
because my best friend shuts down the bar with me
and doesn't drag me out at 1:00am in fear of what could happen after 2
from questioning sanity to a socks off netflix party
you see my best friend make me angry
in a, "why the **** do you have to be right about that"
it's a hardly a pity
and my best friend makes me choke
because though my smile large, my laughter can't escape fast enough
and if you can't rock a dance floor and mash the buttons on a controller to victory
after hiking up a mountain and getting a degree, because we're smart you see
if you can't pull it together after 3 hours of sleep and still love life
there's a chance this poem isn't about you
but if your cards are stacked high and with each passing line you're nodding with a smile
chances are, the relationship I have with you is an everlasting masterpiece
of coyly placed disasters handled with grace
and nights vibrating on bass and sarcasm
chances are...
the relationship I have with you is everything
and thats just the thing about my best friend

take a second, there's that feeling again
I don't want to know this
you didn't want to give this
it was everything I did wrong
echoing to break the threads of the safety blanket
I hid under for years
you didn't try
I don't remember what I did wrong
a tsunami in a single drop
so I snapped your picture because I wanted to remember all of it
from the happiest beginning
to the happiest ending
and then you erased me
you were always more high tech, a whiteboard to my chalkboard
and you can see the scars of the words spoken past
etched into my every thought
its about 4 months passed success
and I can't be held responsible
you fell in love in the first place
and I wish I could remember when I let you fall of the ledge
that I urged you against approaching
but I lost my mind watching the wind dance in your hair
I will never find another like you, it's true
but im wanderlust
and will search the world until it feels right
but your endless smile led my path for years
and now im lost because I took a shortcut
and so I fall asleep where its a bit darker
and I wake up and tousle with my demons
but I still try to smile and remind my self to chin up
I wish you would have never fell
and you could have stayed grounded to keep me from flight
because I wanted to be with you
and my every whim pulled all my limbs in a teary haze
I know that only love could burn my pride
and maybe you were just along for the passionate ride
that was easy to step out and pay the cab fare
I should have said no
no no no you're my best friend
no no no everything always seemed wrong
no no no baby not me
but you painted stars in my eyes so I could see for bright for thousands of years
and I followed you
like the north star, stead and fast
this could just be a part of growing up
and drowning in caffeine just to keep going
and that's what you wanted
but I wanted to run free, a gypsy without a plan
and I over committed myself to dreams that were not mine
but i guess that's growing up
I knew things were going to change
you burned the memories of us
and scattered the ashes to a graveyard
to remind that love dies like everything once full of life
this all sounds ridiculous
but like a nursery rhyme dancing with careful chimes
I hope you're happy
even if I don't know
I know you weren't happy the day I watched you walk away
when I sat silent in an awe
that I open and played the mint condition record of our demise
I had become colorblind, everything was so black and white
like gender roles and expectations of a wife
and it scared the color back into me
you spooked a ghost
because no one can ever be perfect
when it's me standing in front of you crying
trying to remind you that im first and foremost your friend
and when we would lay
I watched the hour hand spin from laughter to tears of frustration
and you couldn't convince me that this life was for you and me
the moon was right, the stars were in align
and we couldn't make it to flight
but I swore that you had to go
love of mine, we left and died
and the beauty of it is, we're still alive
you're free to find your wife
my love withered away to nothing
I had no promises left I could keep
so that's that, we're both headed back to start
we passed go twice and did not collect $200
I know its not easy
but you couldn't fix me
you tried your best but what you saw as succeeding was misleading everything I needed
I was the bad girl to your perfect persona
trouble wrapped in a cute face
and im sorry
I don't know how to say, we were always destined to end
it was just the thrill of the hunt
because we could never love each other endlessly
and so now we're sleeping on floors of strangers we haven't met
wondering were constant schedules and consistency hid away
and someday I'll visit you
but I will never lie to you
about the love I let go
I'm sorry
it'll be a new year
and we'll take to resolutions of promises meant to be broken
someone is going to love you
more than I ever did

Dear you,
I was never so swell at writing letters
but it seems that everyone is writing love letters these days
to the eyes they see as windows
to hands they see as safety nets
to thoughts from another head that help them make sense of all of it

and I don't think I've ever truly fallen in love before you
which makes a lot of sense since I always adored things that are imaginary
the mystical nature of it all
so I'd escape to the thought of your non-existent existentialism
that helped me feel some sort of cloudy comfort
I love clouds..
and love loves clouds, I mean it lives in number 9
and maybe this letter belongs with number 9
a cloud I haven't jumped to yet
because its a forced chronology
not matter how much I try to transcend space
8 was close, but we wont talk about that
because there's not sense in it
but i've also been told that love is a blissful repetition
of soul elation and heart sensation
and see, I told you
you whimsical daydream of a nonexistent fantasy
I told you that I was no good at love letters
because the best one ever wrote
lives in infamy in red roses and blue violets
it's just a think those lines are such a violent antiquity
but my words will never live up to such a sense of sensitivity
so as to be spend a life of monotony trying to make sense of it you see
I digress
where were we
I'm suppose to say I love you and I see no days without you
because you're my sunshine on a rainy day
but old rhymes and tired lies plague my listless rhymes
i swear im tryin'
you can't take to pleasing a mystery
with coyly placed tries of a tease
I might as well tie off my hopeless pleas
but please, don't write me off like the endless words in this tireless rhyme
because until the time rolls around the corner for my wandering thoughts to take form, you'll live in these hopelessly hopeful tangled letters
to you, the one I haven't met yet

1969, one voice sent the world's radios to dancing because we were passing the torch from dreaming to reality as we took to the soft landing
That's one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind
and for just a second, everyone alive got to feel like Einstein but
I bet you as Armstrong looked down he didn't picture the strife and denial of life to so many in sight 40 years later
street riots and technology gone violent controlling the fears of children peering through glass stained in dust as nightmares rush passed the idea of life, crushing everything in sight
we even wrote it in our constitution
Excessive bail shall not be required, nor excessive fines imposed, nor cruel and unusual punishments inflicted.
but you'd have to sell your soul to bail from a life ended where money knows no measure
and you can not tell me that shooting an innocent human on mistake is neither cruel no unusual
but the constitution has turned into a wall
to push people so far back on that they couldn't turn and run
or read what was suppose to be a guarantee in the land of the free
and that's just the beginning
we're denying people from entering a country for body modification
when we've been altering our appearance longer than we have had boundaries to deny people from
because we're still leveling cities like we did when we were daydreaming and knocking block castles down
because we're still enslaving humans because of their genetics
but behind sheer curtains, it's all ok
because if you don't see then there's no need to worry
it's easy to ignore it when you have comments and feeds to read  before you give the world news a chance at your attention
but what i've never understood
is how innovation and careful thinking placed a device in your hand
and all you came to do with it was carefully craft a 140 character string of *******
but i guess it goes to show
like our constitution
that though manifested to be great for the people by the people
at the end of the day, we're still too self obsessed to look at the rest of the picture
we're still too afraid to peer down at the entire world
so, Neil, I'm sorry, one giant step for man but mankind hardly remembers

I have dreams that as the world spins
we will all succumb to noticing the motion teasing our insides
instead of tampering with everything outside of our grasp
I have grandiose dreams that as the world takes to an infinite pirouette
we'll take to practicing spotting so we don't miss this motion picture
spinning whimsically around our shoulders


I have dreams of a paint pallet nestled softly in your hands
while painting the details of our oceans and trees
for a live audience because maybe then
maybe then, we can see the world as the work of art it is
and stop burning books that haven't been written
maybe then, we can stop dumping buckets of the cure for so many lives over our heads
maybe then, maybe then, we'll see that we're all but a percentage of a brush stroke different, and the strife and wars and capturing of life has never been justified but rather lied about in a game of telephone spoken in different languages

now...that's a twist

I have dreams of our world over time in a stop motion
like as the sun creeped over our skylines it took a capture of the world each day
and in each flick of a photo gone by, leaves fall and never return because their frame work was stolen by thieves
the seas rise taunting the cities and the people bustling about the staggered streets
the sprawling fields you painted in the last stanza are peppered in a multiplying phenomenon of a species gone mad


and sometimes I worry my dreams are turning to nightmares
because I rarely conclude my stories with a mare riding into a sunset with a knight and his dreams
but I take to remember that your dreams are made up of a concoction of everything you see and maybe this elevated sense of realizing is everything I need

My biggest fear is standing within earshot of a crowd
in front of a microphone that'll amplify my thoughts
i've always hid in print like a theme you just can't figure out
because if I write slow my tendency to mix letters to a spaghetti mess hardly shows
but when words find their voice in my mouth
its like a shuttle race gone wrong
who goes first, is it the stutter or the lisp
theres too many s's like success just fits and sits amidst words smoothly spoken
when i  read out loud I remember the crowd of eager faces witnessing my sure demise
when it was the top five competing for that shiny prize at the the spelling bee

dyslexia
...
your word is dyslexia

like some sick joke in a word i've never heard that would come to shatter how I felt about my imperfections
running out in a frought...no...i meant a fright, not quite sure if I was headed to the right

you see, if you all put L's up to your forheads in your dominant hand, they all look right or left...or right
I missed my turn
to show my tiny world that I learned to read and spell like all the rest
instead of in a tiny jail cell in my head where I would write words in every which way to try and learn them in a way that made sense to all the rest
but instead I turned down a road of "its your turn to read out loud"...
so I'd read really slow not sure if I was reading a history of Korean or Japanese in English
but written in their natural direction for impact
and i'd get through a paragraph before they stopped me
because my words choked behind my teeth
its just embarrassing

let me tell you
leaving highschool was more relaxing than distressing
eventhough everyone that knew me was now left behind
and so I packed up my life in notebooks
and sealed them in a recycle bin
like I could recycle the thought of them
but no matter if I liked it or not
my letters would come to know no order
when stumbling out of my mouth like a night at the bar passed two
because nothing good happens passed two am
but I write according to my greatest whim
when all the hers and hims retire from a night at large
and so im still stuck here with words leaping from my pages looking for a home, in mouths that know how to shout and let it all out
but, no matter what, im trying
so I stand here now choking out this combination of consonants and vowels
because I know now, my imperfections will lead me to a story only I can tell
so thank you for listening to this garbage disposal of spoken notes I swore looked better when I left them just to be wrote
in notebooks bound by the thoughts of just me

I always loved games but the only thing I was truly good at was being competitive
but that was the element of fun, the game become a job
and this isn't going where you think it is
but there I go again, twisting and turning some made up play around your feet
so carefully constructed you could see through the passes
I was really more from the drama side of it
memorizing my lines carefully like a beat I had to march to
I never sat on the bench, because I was always a starter
but i sat the fight song out and  I had to look up that football reference
because I thought I was rebellious, taking to jazz to play solos
whatever would dance out from my bell
but when the last bell rang on my last day in first
and I got drowned out by trumpets staring down the horns by the modest flutes
i lost it, like medicine that wont go down
a spoonful of sugar didn't help anything when I buttoned up that jacket for the last time
oh, I had a merry tune to toot
because like every good marcher, i memorized my part
first, before the rest, and after the tie to second
I didn't bother much to play in 8ths instead of sixteenths
I conditioned for years, and had very little time to rest
being competitive made this sabotage become a piece of cake
oooh when that tape came back
and you were buzzing like a bee to find me
and i'd smile at the cassette you were holding, because a mouthful of sugar will help the medicine go down
that's where our story comes to rest, no more measures on repeat
and the only reason I write it down now
is for the laughter we consumed when you knew
I made your audition different
because who had any sense you'd play first inline with the trombones
and the sound of it
would be a spoonful of sugar, that made the medicine go down